


The Fairly New and Most Humble House of Armitage-O'Gorman

by mangocianamarch



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, GORMITAGE LIVING TOGETHER, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Sex, grown-ass men being silly-ass boys, just yeaH THERE WILL BE SEX THINGS OKAY, probably other minor pairings idk yet i'm literally making this up as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2499539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangocianamarch/pseuds/mangocianamarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're together, they're in love, they've bought a new home in the UK, they're living together. Now what? </p>
<p>File under: "the sometimes not-so-mundane adventures of Richard and Dean under the roof of their recently bought new home."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toomanynames](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanynames/gifts).



> I don't even remember how this domestic AU began between myself and [Ali](http://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanynames), but it started and I couldn't let go. So here, have this humble offering of my most fave RPF OTP of all time, [Kanye voice] OF ALL TIME.
> 
> As usual, I do not personally know any of the people depicted in this fic (unless I specifically state otherwise), and I do not claim any of this to be true to any degree. Also, I am, as always, unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my own, do please feel free to let me know if you catch anything.

It happens on a lazy Saturday afternoon, after Dean has brought their afternoon tea out to the porch where Richard has given into his urge to do some weeding.

“…Have you ever thought about being a father?”

Richard isn’t sure what does it, but he trips and stumbles just as the question finishes leaving Dean’s mouth. He looks over to where Dean is sitting on the floor of the deck, legs dangling over the edge and swinging nonchalantly, a tray with their teacups beside him. Dean looks calm, almost cheerful, as though he hasn’t just asked a loaded question.

“Sorry, what?” says Richard, although he knows that Dean knows that he had heard as clear as daylight.

Still, Dean humors him. “Have you ever thought about having kids?” he inquires again, hands planted on either side of him and slightly raising his shoulders.

Richard has already been over this part of the garden, but he bends down to pick out a few strays he’d missed. “Probably,” Richard replies with as non-committal a shrug as he can manage, keeping his eyes trained on the ground because he can’t, just _can’t_ , look over at Dean right now, “Twice or thrice in the span of my entire life. Yeah. Yes. Maybe. Why?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Richard sees Dean return the shrug. “Dunno,” he says, but Richard is quite sure that he _does_ know, “I just think it would be nice, you know?”

“I’m sure it would be,” Richard answers, and he almost immediately regrets it. He pulls at another weed with a bit much more vigor than he’d intended, uprooting a bit of grass along with it.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, and Richard can _hear_ him smiling, “Think we should do it?”

Richard stumbles again, and this time he knows it was his knee giving away; he hadn’t expected that _this_ soon into the conversation. “Kids?” he says quietly, “You and me?”

“Why not?” says Dean, and Richard can tell he’s a bit disappointed that Richard is showing hesitance, “We already live together, we’ve got stable jobs as actors – well, you more than me, but still – we’ve got a nice big house with lots of space…”

Richard realizes with a bit of dread that he’s actually already finished with the garden. He drops his stuffed bin liner and walks over to Dean, who is watching him with a tiny smile in the corner of his thin, pretty lips. “Well, we’ve only been living together a couple of months or so,” Richard reminds him as Dean holds tea out to him, “and being a working actor means we’re not _in_ this nice big house with lots of space for long periods of time.”

“We could make it work,” Dean says, “some people do. Why can’t we?”

The look of optimism and hope on Dean’s face is so endearing that it’s almost _painful_ for Richard. He sets his cup back down without even having taken a sip of it and places himself between Dean’s legs, planting his palms down on the wood underneath. “You really ought to stop looking at me like that,” he tells Dean, who flushes slightly.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Dean states.

“Am I?” Richard teases, because yes, as a matter of fact, he is.

“We’ve been together almost two years, Rich,” Dean snorts, “You don’t honestly think I wouldn’t know your distraction tactics by now, do you?”

Richard ducks his head and chuckles a little – Dean is a sucker for that. “I just think we should take a little bit more time to think about it,” he says, and he hopes Dean doesn’t figure out how much of a white lie that is.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen tomorrow,” Dean says, “But we should at least consider it. And by ‘we,’ I really mean ‘you.’ You’d be such a great dad, I know it.”

“You just want to have the right to call me a ‘hot dad,’ or whatever,” teases Richard.

Dean crinkles his nose. “A bit,” he admits, “But I mean…honestly, Richard. Will you at least think about it? Please?”

One of the many things that Richard loves about Dean is that Dean doesn’t ask for much. He knows how to plead without begging, or insist without pushing. He also always knows exactly what to say and how to say them to make Richard do something, and Richard isn’t sure if he likes _that_ or not.

Still, he nods, leaning in to give Dean a little kiss on the forehead.

“Yay,” Dean sighs into Richard’s shirt as he wraps his arms around Richard’s torso, “ _Yayyyy_.”

“Say we _were_ to have kids though,” Richard says into Dean’s hair, his finger tracing lightly up and down Dean’s spine, “How would we go getting one?”

“You can’t be serious,” Dean snorts, pulling away slightly to look up at Richard, “Adoption? Surrogate? Hello _ooo_?”

“Why don’t we just get you pregnant?” Richard jokes.

“You can’t get me pregnant, I don’t have the right parts!” Dean protests.

“Maybe not,” Richard teases, “But the trying is always fun.”

He doesn’t let Dean react to his little joke. He lunges and kisses him hard, hot and hungry, pulling Dean flush against him. Dean gasps and laughs a little, but then he’s clutching at Richard and sighing into the kiss, opening to Richard and locking his legs around Richard’s waist to keep him there.

\--------------------

“Sssshhhh.”

Richard turns his head just a little, just enough for Dean to know he’s looking back at him. “What?” he asks softly, as if there’s anybody else in the house that might be awakened if he speaks too loudly.

“I can hear you thinking,” Dean laughs, and they giggle together, Dean’s arm draped around Richard’s hip. Richard finds Dean’s fingers with his own.

“It’s your birthday next week,” he tells Dean, still in that quiet voice.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” snorts Dean, who kisses at Richard’s bare shoulder.

“What do you wanna do?” asks Richard.

Dean groans a little. “Nothing, to be honest,” he tells Richard, “It’s not really all that special, Rich, I’m just getting _older_.”

“We have to do _something_ ,” Richard answers, bringing Dean’s fingers to his lips and kissing them gently one by one, “Press stuff for _Hobbit_ happens just after that, we may not have time for anything major afterwards.”

“Which is fine with me,” Dean says, “I don’t really want anything major anyway. Ugh, don’t do that, that’s sexy,” he adds, because Richard has nipped at the tip of one of his fingers with his teeth.

“But it’s your birthday,” Richard points out. His tongue flicks at the space between Dean’s knuckles, and he hears him let out a tiny sigh into the skin of his back.

“You’ve planned something, haven’t you?” Dean prods.

Richard shakes his head. “Not yet,” he promises, “We can maybe go out to dinner or something. We can go to the place that does the _mignon_.”

“I do love the _mignon_ ,” agrees Dean, “Okay, we’ll do that, but that’s _it_ , okay? No surprise parties, no parents suddenly appearing at lunch after having been secretly flown in, no living room full of fucking flowers or something, okay?”

Richard laughs into the back of Dean’s hand, and he can feel Dean’s own chuckles rumbling through his chest and onto his own back. “The flowers will _not_ be fucking, I can promise you that much,” Richard sasses.

He earns himself a sharp slap to the ass for that. The sound makes Batman look up from where he’s curled up in one corner, making Richard crack up.

“That wasn’t thunder, boy,” Richard tells Batman, who seems to understand and relaxes, so Richard addresses Dean again, “We’re going to end up _traumatizing_ him one day.”

Dean cackles into Richard’s skin. “I’m surprised he hasn’t attacked you when we’re in bed,” he says.

“We could get him a playmate of his own,” Richard offers, and again Dean smacks his ass, “What the fuck was that for?”

“You _know_ what that was for,” Dean replies, “Two dogs in the house? The entire place is going to come down on our heads, I guarantee.”

“If you say so,” Richard says, but inspiration has already struck, “Get some sleep, babe.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, darling,” Dean shoots back.

“Don’t call me ‘darling,’ sweetheart,” Richard answers.

“Fine, asshole,” says Dean, and they launch into another fit of laughter.

 

 

 

**~ to be continued ~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this chapter BEFORE the announcement came that the London premiere (I refuse to call it world premiere considering they're not gonna have majority of the Kiwi Dwarves at it) of BOTFA will be on December 1, which, as we all know, is Dean's birthday, so for the purposes of this fic, it's not happening on Dean's birthday. :P

“Wakey-wakey, eggs and bac-y.”

Coherence comes back to Dean in a crawl, and the first thing he becomes aware of is his cheek and ear and hair being peppered with little kisses. He can see sunlight trying to battle with the darkness behind the skin of his eyelids, and Dean squeezes his eyes tight, trying to keep the morning away.

“Rich _aaaaaa_ rd,” he whines, “It’s too bloody early.”

But the hand that Richard’s got on his hip is gently shaking him awake. “It’s 9 o’clock, sweetheart,” Richard corrects him, “Not only that, but it’s 9 o’clock on your birthday.”

With his eyes still screwed shut, Dean bats Richard away from his face, and then pulls the covers up and over his head, mewling into the pillow underneath him. “Go ‘wa _yyyy_ ,” he protests.

“Come on, lazy butt,” Richard coos, “Up and at ‘em with you, or I’ll start jumping on the bed.”

At this, Dean flips the comforter up off his face and tries to fix Richard with as withering a look as he can manage considering his facial muscles are still asleep. “Richard Crispin Armitage, if you break this bed, I swear to you, I will build you a dog kennel to sleep in for the rest of this relationship,” he threatens darkly.

“You said that about the coffee-maker, dear,” snorts Richard, who bends down and pecks Dean on the tip of his nose, “And look what happened there.”

“Fuck you, I loved that coffee-maker,” Dean growls as Richard pulls the rest of the covers away from Dean and promptly joins him on the bed, straddling Dean’s smaller frame, “Oi, no. Down, boy.”

“Are you going to get up out of bed or am I going to have to drag you around in your onesies all day long?” Richard asks, the tiniest of smirks in the corner of his mouth, and Dean doesn’t know whether to kiss it or punch it away.

“Well, I can’t get up out of bed _now_ , can I?” he huffs, rubbing at his face with both hands, more to disguise the fact that he’s actually chuckling a little, “You bright little ray of sunshine, get off me.”

“Not what you were saying last night, if I remember correctly,” offers Richard.

Dean reaches out, grabs the closest pillow and smacks Richard with it. Richard goes down laughing, so Dean hits him with the pillow again.

“I don’t like your birthdays, you get violent,” Richard guffaws.

Dean pokes him in whatever spot he can reach without having to get up. “ _You_ make me violent, you little…” he sighs, “What’s so important that I have to get up so early anyway?”

“It’s 9 o’clock,” Richard repeats, “And I’ve got a gift for you, that’s what. You like presents, Dean, don’t you?”

Dean lets out a low groan. “That’s so unfair, that’s _so_ unfair,” he whines, twisting and turning onto his side, met with Richard’s calves, “How dare you lure me out of heaven with such a devilish offer?”

“I never said I was an angel, Deano,” Richard reminds him, reaching out and tracing lazy patterns onto the sheets just above Dean’s thighs.

Dean looks down at him and is tempted to kick that adorably mischievous smirk off his goddamn face. “Don’t I fucking know it now,” he replies, and Richard sticks his tongue out at him, actually sticks his fucking tongue out at him like the giant 5-year-old that he is, “Well, go on then, what’s this big surprise present you got to commemorate this most auspicious of occasions?”

“You and your 10-cent words,” Richard snorts, “It’s outside, so you have to get up and put some clothes on and meet me there.”

Dean sucks in a breath, then lets it all out in one long stream of “Oh, that sounds great, let me just think about that for a seco-NO.”

He pulls the covers up again and clamps his eyes shut, determined to get back a bit more sleep, but then there are feather-light kisses going up his leg, to his thigh, lingering just a little long on where Richard knows Dean’s pelvis is, before they’re traveling further up.

“Bad form, old bean,” says Dean, but there’s a lot less venom than he’d like; Richard knows he’s a sucker for these, “Jesus, Richard.”

“Are you going to get out of bed or am I gonna have to devour you?” Richard asks, voice low, weight just that right amount of hot on top of Dean as he kisses at Dean’s collarbone.

“You’re awful,” Dean sighs, legs falling open and letting Richard settle between them, “Fuck you. Ugh, fuck you.” But when Richard kisses his mouth, he goes all too willingly, breathing him in and whimpering just a little at Richard’s possessive touches.

“Happy birthday,” Richard greets softly with a tiny little smile just for him, stroking at Dean’s hair like he’s made of some precious metal.

“I hate your face,” Dean answers in the same tone, and Richard laughs into the skin of his throat. Dean sighs, pretty certain that he could stay like this forever if anyone ever cared to ask him, but then Richard is tugging at his wrist and urging him up.

“Come on, lazy,” coaxes Richard, “Up with you, come on, come on. Can’t keep the gift waiting.”

“Fi _nnnnn_ e,” Dean pouts, “But you owe me coffee.”

Richard snorts again as he grabs a shirt and some shorts from Dean’s closet and gives them to him to change into. “Babe, I’ll make you all the coffee you could ever want in your entire life,” Richard promises, “Just get changed and follow me outside, okay?”

Richard pulls him close and drops a little kiss on his forehead, winking before he leaves the room. Batman watches him go before turning to Dean, and Dean can practically _hear_ the look on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that, you little mutt,” he says affectionately as he steps out of his pyjamas, “You knew I was whipped from the moment you met him.”

Batman barks twice, and Dean swears he’s actually _laughing at him_. “Just you wait,” Dean snorts as he pulls on his shorts, “One day, Richard’s gonna find you a girl dog or a guy dog and you’re not gonna be laughing anymore, I promise you that.”

Batman seems to think this a threat, and bows his head to indicate as much. “Yeah, I thought so,” Dean chuckles, pulling on a shirt, “Well, come on, then let’s go see what Papa’s got outside, shall we?”

Batman rises slowly to his feet, stretching as he goes. “Me too, boy,” Dean concurs, “Come on, then.” He pats at his thighs as a signal, and Batman comes up to him, rising onto his hind paws to rest his front ones on Dean. With a bit of a grunt, Dean bends and picks his heavy pet up into his arms. “What the hell has Richard been feeding you?” he grumbles, but Batman just barks in glee because he doesn’t have to walk so early in the morning.

They find Richard out in the porch, a sizeable box resting on the Chippendale table on the deck. Dean eyes it warily, his mind not eased at _all_ by the bright smile on Richard’s face.

“It’s in here,” says Richard, tapping the box.

“I figured as much, funnily enough,” Dean answers, setting Batman down, “What even is in there that the box has to be _that_ big?”

“Well, if I tell you, it wouldn’t _be_ a present, would it?” replies Richard, just as Batman trots up to the table, standing to sniff at it. Almost immediately, he jumps down and barks, seemingly slightly alarmed as he retreats back to Dean.

It’s the first time all morning that Richard’s expression changes – suddenly he doesn’t seem so sure. But before Dean can come up with something snippy for him, he recovers, schooling his face back into the smugness it’s been wearing.

“Probably should’ve warned Batman first,” says Richard with a small shrug, “Come see for yourself, then.”

Dean looks down at Batman just as Batman looks up at him. “He _did_ promise me coffee,” he tells his dog, who just whimpers a little. Dean finally crosses over to the table, his eyes trained on Richard, who has stepped back to give him some room.

Dean sighs, and starts to pull at the rather haphazardly closed box folds. That’s when the whole thing _moves_ , and Dean freezes. “Richard, what --” he starts to ask, but Richard just shakes his head.

“Keep going,” he urges, and Dean does, albeit with far more trepidation than before. Little by little the box opens, and then –

“ _RICHARD._ ”

Dean reaches in and carefully wraps his hands around the tiny dog, which yips happily, its tail wagging as Dean lifts it out. It’s a Scottish Terrier, still young, its fur thick and black as a board. She looks at Dean with striking eyes, tongue out as she pants a happy greeting at him.

“Oh, Richard, you _didn’t_ ,” Dean moans, himself unsure if he’s happy about this or not.

“I sort of did,” Richard laughs, “It’s a female, she doesn’t have a name yet. A friend of mine runs a pet store, tipped me off about her just a day ago. She came to them a few months ago, if I’m not mistaken.”

The pup reaches out and surprise Dean with a little lick at his nose, and Dean can’t help but laugh.

“She likes you already, look at that,” Richard points out, although he does sound a bit relieved, “So? What do you think?”

Dean shakes his head, chuckling again as he holds the puppy flush against him like a baby. She doesn’t protest. She even seems to like it. “I think you’re insane, that’s what I think,” Dean tells Richard, “But she’s precious. Isn’t she, Batman?”

Batman is still keeping his distance, but at Dean’s call, he pads forward a little, and Dean bends to hold the new puppy to Batman, who sniffs at her warily. “We like her, don’t we, boy?” Dean says, trying to assure both the dog and Richard, “Yeah, I think we do.” Dean sets the puppy down, and immediately she literally runs circles around Batman, inspecting him, it seems, and then reaching up and nipping at him, trying to urge him to play. Batman turns to Dean as if asking permission, and Dean just shrugs and waves him off before standing.

“Well, they’re getting along right away,” Richard observes, coming up behind Dean and putting an arm around him.

“That’s coz Batman’s friendly,” Dean reminds him, “He just gets everybody to like him immediately, he doesn’t even have to do anything.”

“Sounds like someone I know, to be honest,” Richard giggles, kissing into Dean’s hair. “So? Yes?”

Dean sighs, poking Richard in the rib. “Not like I was going to let you take her back anyway,” he replies, but he’s smiling too.

“I know you weren’t so sure about another dog,” Richard tells him, “And I’m sorry I went behind your back with this, but I wasn’t going to do it if I wasn’t sure you’d warm to the idea.”

Dean snorts. “It’s coz you bribe me with cute things,” he scoffs, “But I’m glad, I am. She’s adorable.”

“She really is, though,” Richard agrees, “So what do we name her?”

 

 

 

 

**~ TO BE CONTINUED. ~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, what SHOULD they name her? Suggestions pleasssse! Better if you can explain why that particular name. I'll reveal the name of the new puppy in the next chapter! :D


End file.
